(Childish Gambino - "Letter home" plays as a boy walks on stage, there is a chair centre stage and he sits on it, looking straight at the audience he speaks)

MAN: I was 13, so was she. It was on a bus back from summer camp. Before I left for camp I had imagined it would just be me and some friends messing around all summer, getting into trouble, just being kids. But it turned out to be just me and her. She was pretty, and everything about her screamed that she was older than her 13 years. Straight blonde hair, blue eyes. But she was more than just attractive, she was smart, and funny, someone who would read books that no one assigned to her, but she could be goofy, tell jokes and she could be wise sometimes in a ways I never could. Gave me advice, told me things that I never knew, made me feel things I'd never felt. I liked her, and she liked me. And I more than liked her but did she more than like me?

(Pause as he seems to stare into space for a while, suddenly he is broken from his revelry)

We could never be could we? She went to a different school to me, we lived so far away from each other how could we be together? But I couldn't get past the fact that deep somewhere inside me that it, and maybe it was that childish love that we all seem to get at some point. But it was still love all the same. But if I didn't say something I knew that could it for us. On the other hand I also knew that if I did say something, it might definitely be it for us. We spent the hours just talking, laughing, smiling.

(Behind him lights go up and we a boy and a girl sitting on two seats, we don't see the rest of the coach, as if they are suspended in his memory just the boy and the girl)

The sun had gone down and the bus was quiet. Other kids had gone to sleep and she and I were talking animatedly about a tree that looked like a kid we knew. Then suddenly I said...

MAN AND BOY: "Can I tell you something?"(PAUSE)

MAN:Before long I was telling you everything and it all came out of me and it kept coming and coming. And all I could see was her face there and gone as we passed the orange lights that lined the sides of the motorway. There was no expression. After a while I think I was just talking to lengthen the time in which I was in a world where you hadn't said yes or no and regrettably I used the word "destiny." Finally I ran out of things to say and I waited for her answer, it felt as if was suffocating, my head was spinning and my guts felt as if they were rising ready to burst out of me and time stood still for a second, everything became blurry and out of focus the smell of pine needles hung thick and heavy in that encapsulated moment of time and then from nowhere she said...


MAN: I don't know what she meant by it, I still don't, but it seemed vaguely positive and at that point I would've liked to leave, not wanting to spoil the moment and fill the space with that adolescent awkwardness that is left behind at those moments. But we were still on the motorway and I couldn't escape and so I pretended to be asleep, and before long...I was

(The lights go out and he is brought back from his memories, as he speaks and the story unfolds he starts to pace across the stage, clearly agitated)

I woke up, I looked round, and she was gone. The smell of pine needles still emanated from the spot where she'd been, as I looked around. I saw that there were hardly any children on the coach any more. We had stopped and as I looked out the window I saw my family waiting for me, my mum and dad smiling and waving at me from the car. I swung my legs out to the centre isle ready to get up of the coach. But my path was blocked by a group of girls they were huddled. Giggling. One of them turned to me I couldn't see much of her face because of the light that shined behind her. I could she that she was smiling and she said one word before her and the other girls left laughing behind their hands off the coach, she said...

MAN AND GIRL: "Destiny".

MAN: I didn't even know she knew those girls... My parents took me home and camp was over, so was summer because even though the days were long and there was two weeks until school started, summer was still over for me.

(He stares at the space where she had been for a few seconds before speaking and there is a smile on his face)

Now this isn't a story about how girls are evil or about how love is bad. Its just a story. About about how I learned something. I don't know whether this thing is true or not, I| just know it's what I learned. I told her something and it was just for her, and she told everyone. So I learnt to cut out the middle man, make it all for everybody, always. Everybody can't turn around and tell everybody. Everybody already knows. I told them. If that means there isn't a place for her...or someone like her in my life then is that sad? Yes. But it's a sadness I chose.

(The smile is faded now and he sits back down on the chair).

I wish I could say that this a story about how I I got on the bus a boy and off it a man, more cynical and hardened and mature. But that's not true, the truth is, I got on the bus a boy...and I never got off the bus.

(the lights go down)